Thread: A dream within a dream within a dream.

I'm a roller coaster inspector. That is my job. I climb the tracks while they are shut down. I climb into the tunnels until I reach the cars which are locked in place, and I cannot climb any further. Then I climb back down. I wear a yellow sort of rain coat.

During the operation of one of the coasters, it failed to latch onto a chain-climb. The riders went backwards down the same track they had momented upward. Because they failed to latch, they went backwards. They continued back and forth, up and down, on the same track for awhile.

"You're going to be okay," I shouted. "Technical issues on track such and such," I yelled out in alarm. "We have technical issues on this coaster!"

Before long, sirens. Ambulance and fire engines were screaming. A boy who was tired of riding on the broken coaster decides to stand up and make it more enjoyable.

"Sit down!" I yell. But he jumps out. I run over to him and grab him. "Do you want to lose your life?" I'm grabbing his shoulder. "Look at these," I take his loose shoe laces. "You could have lost your leg!" He is frowning a bit, a young boy.

"Don't be so harsh," my mom says. She continues on about me not lecturing him. Finally I interupt. "This is my job! I am security. This is what I am supposed to do!" I make my point very clear. She is a bit taken back with surprise.

There are even swat police on the scene. Guns are focused on the surrounding area. The atmosphere is high pressure and intense. At any moment someone could be shot down. I have a strong feeling of being needed, of importance.

Suddenly some joy-rider races up in his sports car with a grin on his face. He does a u-turn while waving out the window.

"Now I understand," I said to Ion.

He chuckled after a moment. "That's right," he looked at me. Now we knew where this young boy got his carefree outlook on life. From his father.

Later on I am on the tracks doing inspection again. But I notice the coaster is moving farther away on the ride. I hurry to get off, climbing down the steep incline. At the bottom, my sweater or some clothing gets caught in the tracks. I'm pulling it, but it doesn't release. However, I am safely a few feet out of the way. I'm stretching the clothing. I decide I want to show as an example to everyone what can happen, in this life-or-death situation. A great many people are around me, but mostly not paying attention to me. Which is fine, because I realize I am completely naked. I had pulled away from the caught-up clothing and it had left me with nothing to wear. I begin to reflect what others will think, especially now that so many people are arriving on the scene. I decide to sit down on the rough ground. It isn't the most pleasant thing on my naked bum. Suddenly I spot other clothing, a button-up shirt of mine, laying on the ground nearby. I take it and cover myself rather than wearing it as a shirt.

There are a lot of people around me...

Why am I naked?

Who are these people?

These thoughts are teasing at the edge of my consciousness. There's no way this could be a dream. I look at the faces of those talking. The semi-glossy finish of sweat on their cheeks. The smiles, the conversations they are having. I hurry to reality check, but where? Words.. some words, somewhere. Someone is holding a kind of letter with some logo or design on it. It's not really english, but I want to notice if it changes. The girl flips it over as she talks to someone else. As she flips it around, it does not change. It remains the same logo. But now I am sure it could change if I focused and waited. They carry on despite my being naked and attentive to this. And finally, she flips it once more. And a piece of the logo is missing.

This was all a dream?

All of this was not real?

The implications of this seem huge. Not because I was excited to know it, but because this entire world as I knew it was false. My life, my job as an inspector, all these people around me. The whole universe was a lie. There was a bit of awe and sadness in me.

And the dream began to black out, no longer able to carry on its secret lies.

I was disappointed because once I'd finally got the truth, it all just disappeared. But then I remembered, wait. Another will come.

Sometime later I am walking in broad daylight. The place is familiar, my home, my street. I am thinking about how usually my lucid dreams take place before the sun is up. I had even said that on a forum. But the sun was well up now, and my last dream must have been taking place much later than I thought. As I am walking, I see my dad. He is on the wooden ramp that leads up to our house. It was designed for the cripled folks who used to live there, a long time ago. He waves at me. I am walking on the street that goes near the mall now. But I wonder why he does not say anything. He should say something. Something about work, or where I am going, or something. I'm not sure. But he does not. And I realize... this is yet, still, another dream.

Am I sure?

My eyes dart around. I notice that the picture I am seeing is not the clearest. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. That's more like a dream than reality... I'm pretty sure this is a dream.

A bit of leaping in the air might tell me. Quite a high jump of six feet, and a gliding back down.

Now I find myself trying to notice detail. The tiny bits of nettles and leaves in the trees. I am hopping and gliding. I end up standing and slipping on a large steel tank that holds gas or something. The detail is good, and I am holding the lucid dream, but I feel it tugging away. I fail to rub my hands together or further wake my consciousness up and become more aware, and thus excited of this state.

Later, I am telling my mom the whole story. "I could see the light in their eyes, hear their conversations. There were many different conversations, and I could tell you all the words right now."

I told her everything. It was funny because two people tried to steal my parents attention when I was really wanting to explain my experience. "Shut up," I yelled at Carol who had a big eager-to-gab smile on her face. "You're not real!"

I didn't connect the the fact that because they were not real also meant my mom and dad were not real. So I went on relating my experiences. They were quite surprised at everything. Dad was listening intently with his brow crossed. "You could probably write this really well, right now."

I supposed he was right, but I didn't want to write it. I didn't realize he was probably a dream sign telling me to wake up and write the dream down.

When I'd finished telling them everything, I was disillusioned. "You probably won't even remember that I told you everything. Because you're not real either. I will ask you later, when I show you it all written up. I will ask you if you remember me telling you everything."

I woke in bed, and the sun had barely risen.